All This Has Happened Before
by Kate Rosen
Summary: Past Lives AU. "Sharon Raydor greeted the officer from Bozeman, Montana who had traveled to LA to help them with a case, extending her hand; and as he grasped it in a firm handshake, a strange sense of déjà vu settled over her in that moment—the touch of his warm, calloused fingers feeling familiar, the look in his deep, blue eyes knowing."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a _Major Crimes/Battlestar Galactica_ crossover fic, but I didn't want to post it in the crossover section, because I was afraid that no one would see it there.

I received the following prompt from **okaynextcrisis** in my Tumblr inbox: _Bill/Laura + past lives AU_. (By the way, if you're a BSG fan and you haven't read her fics, do yourself a favor and go read them all now; I'll wait. Okay, you're back? Let's continue.)

The story that I came up with is a little different, but the response on Tumblr has been overwhelmingly positive, so I decided to post here as well. To my Shandy shipper friends, Andy Flynn does not exist in this AU. I'm sorry, but I didn't want to have to make a difficult choice. I hope you enjoy, and if you have the time, please drop me a line to let me know your thoughts. As always, thank you for reading!

* * *

 **All This Has Happened Before** by Kate Rosen

 **Chapter 1**

"Sheriff Adams, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Sharon Raydor greeted the officer from Bozeman, Montana who had traveled to LA to help them with a case, extending her hand; and as he grasped it in a firm handshake, a strange sense of déjà vu settled over her in that moment—the touch of his warm, calloused fingers feeling familiar, the look in his deep, blue eyes knowing.

"You can call me Will," the Sheriff answered in a gruff but gentle tone, feeling terrible for staring, but the sight of her bright, sage eyes behind her glasses brought him pause, and although he couldn't put his finger on it, he felt like he knew this woman even though he was only meeting her for the first time.

Abruptly they both let go and dropped their gaze to the floor as they found their seats.

After a beat of silence, Will cleared his throat, and couldn't help the words that came next. "Excuse me, Captain, but have we met before?"

"I don't see how," she answered, shaking her head in bewilderment, but not being able to stop herself from studying the lines on his face, their pattern curiously recognizable. "Have you always lived in Bozeman?"

"Born and raised," he answered with a nod. "I don't think I've ever set foot in California until today.

"And I've never been to Montana…" her voice trailed off. "Maybe we should…" she began, gesturing to the photos and other evidence that Will had brought with him.

"Yes, of course," he answered, focusing on the paperwork laid out on her desk as he began to tell the story of the serial killer they had been tracking for over two years until he had suddenly vanished. Then just last month a killer with an eerily similar MO had begun striking in Los Angeles.

x

* * *

x

It had been a long time since Sharon had had the nightmares. They started when she was young, so vivid and real that she would wake up screaming. The first one she could remember having involved her father and sisters dying in a car accident. The recurring dream plagued her throughout her childhood, and she constantly lived in fear of it coming true. Late at night, she would jolt awake and need to run and check on her family before she could fall back to sleep. Sometimes she'd curl up in bed with her little sister, holding her close and praying that God wouldn't take her away.

When she was promoted to Captain of Internal Affairs, she began to have new dreams: talking in front of crowds while standing at a podium crawling with snakes, being faced with awful decisions, feeling as if the weight of humanity's existence was on her very shoulders. Which group should die so the rest could survive? Should the traitor be executed or imprisoned? So vivid were they, that she'd wake up flailing and screaming, even hitting her then husband in the face once or twice. (Not that he didn't deserve it.)

Her therapist told her that the dreams were her subconscious way of working through the responsibilities that came with her new position of power at the LAPD. She literally held the lives of her officers in her hands on a daily basis, and that was a lot to grapple with, her therapist explained.

Although Sharon wasn't 100% convinced, she kept going to therapy sessions, and eventually the dreams became less frequent and frightening, although they never completely stopped.

The night after she first met Sheriff Will Adams, Sharon had a new dream. Will lay shot and bleeding on the ground, but she was unable to help him. She was locked in what seemed like a jail cell and forced to watch him gasp for breath as he bled to death. Waking up in a cold sweat, she felt like she should warn him. Her dreams had never come true before, but what if this one did? They were planning a dangerous joint undercover operation for the next day. She needed to let him know, but how could she do that without sounding crazy?

x

* * *

x

Sharon rushed nervously into the murder room the next morning, but the place was oddly quiet with Lieutenant Provenza and Buzz being it's only inhabitants. Will Adams and her team had already headed out and were getting into position around the abandoned warehouse where they had determined that their suspect was most likely hiding out. Buzz had the live feed up and running in electronics, and she had no choice but to take the walkie-talkie and give the go-ahead.

Chief Howard and Special Operations were taking the lead with Major Crimes and Sheriff Adams providing backup. As the raid began, Sharon closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that everyone would stay safe. In reality, the entire operation only took about five minutes, but it felt like an eternity as she stood anxiously watching and listening, her knuckles white from gripping the walkie-talkie so tightly. When the all-clear came over the radio and everyone was accounted for (except the suspect, who had been killed when he had begun firing on the officers), Sharon released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and quickly excused herself to her office.

x

* * *

x

When Sharon's team returned with Will and the guys from SOB an hour later, she could hardly contain the relief she felt. Truthfully, she was happy to see all of them return unharmed, but she was most relieved to see Will alive and well. She couldn't believe how much anxiety she had caused herself over a stupid dream. She really should know better, having experienced them for so long, that as vivid and terrifying as they always felt, they were still just dreams and had no basis in reality.

Sharon nodded and raised a hand to greet everyone through the window, thinking it best not to leave her office just yet, with the inexplicable urge to rush out and wrap her arms around Will being so strong that it frightened her. She had no idea what had come over her; she'd never felt this strongly about a man before, especially one she barely knew. As she saw Chief Howard approach, she waved him in so he could give her a full briefing on the events that had transpired this morning. After that, there would be plenty of reports and paperwork to keep her busy and just maybe take her mind off a certain visiting sheriff from Montana.

x

* * *

x

Later that evening as Sharon sat at her desk, the sun had just finished setting and a pinkish hue tinted the Los Angeles skyline behind her. A lamp was on low to light her office as she typed her final report of the day. It was time to call it a night, she had decided, and told her team as much an hour ago, but a few of them were still lingering in the murder room. After quickly skimming over what she had written, she saved her report and closed her laptop. Through the window to her right, she could see Provenza, Julio, and Will casually chatting, the three perched on various desk, no doubt commiserating on the events of the day.

As she began to gather her things, she noticed them begin to steal glances in her direction. Suddenly they stood, and Julio and Provenza shook hands with Will as he gathered his things as well. She felt her cheeks flush as he approached her door, but she tried her best to act unaffected, and taking a deep breath, she called, "Come in," when he rapped softly.

"I just wanted to say goodbye and 'thank you,' Captain," Will said, entering her office and shutting the door behind him. Through the window, she could see Julio and Provenza packing up slowly, seeming to stall for time. She couldn't be sure if they were being nosy or protective.

"I know it wasn't the outcome that we all hoped for today, but at least a dangerous murderer can no longer hurt anyone," he continued.

Sharon didn't step any closer to him, but she did nod and smile warmly in reply. "I agree, and you don't have to thank me. I should be thanking you for coming all of this way. Your help with this case has been invaluable."

"It was no trouble," he answered. "Well, I guess I should be going now. I've got an early flight in the morning." He moved toward the door, but then stopped abruptly and turned around to face her once more. "Unless... Have you had dinner, Captain?"

"Um, well, no, actually I..." she stammered, nervously fooling with her coat and bag, which she held in her hands. Was this man actually asking her out?

"Well, would you like to? Have dinner, I mean. With me, I mean." He chuckled softly, rubbing nervously at his forehead with his left hand, and Sharon noticed the gold ring on his finger for the first time all day, and it was as if all of the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room. "Sorry, I haven't done this in awhile."

"What," Sharon asked, her tone suddenly clipped, "had an affair?"

"What? An affair? No, I..." His voice trailed off as he followed her gaze to his left hand. "Oh this? You mean my ring," he said, gesturing toward his finger. "I've been divorced for almost three years now. I just never quite got out of the habit of wearing it."

"Divorced," Sharon said, her tone questioning, and an uneasy silence fell over the room.

"Well, I guess, I'll be going then. Sorry." He turned then, looking defeated.

Sharon couldn't help herself; she believed him. God help her, but she believed him, and the thought of him walking out that door and out of her life forever was almost too much. "Wait," she called softly. "I..." she began, then stopped, glancing down at her hands.

"Yes?" he answered, turning around cautiously.

"Sorry, I haven't done this is awhile either," she admitted. Then, taking a deep breath and gathering her strength, she looked up at him and said, "You can call me Sharon, and yes, I would like to have dinner with you."

 _ **TBC**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**

"I can't really explain why, but ever since I was young, I've always wanted to live in a cabin," Will spoke animatedly, as he sat in the booth across from Sharon at the diner she'd chosen for them to grab some dinner, which they'd long ago finished. They'd even paid the bill and got up to leave at one point, but they found that they weren't done talking, so they sat back down and ordered coffee. That was two hours ago.

"A real log cabin," he continued, "out in the middle of nowhere and that I built with my own two hands. When I got divorced, I figured there was no time like the present, so I started to work on it immediately."

"Tell me about your cabin," Sharon asked, resting her chin in her hand and giving him her full attention.

"It's fairly modest, just one-story with two bedrooms and a large front porch. I'm surrounded by the mountains, and there is a stream that runs through the back of my property. I swear, the water is so clear it's like…"

"Like looking through glass," Sharon mused.

"Yes, exactly," he confirmed. "And when the sun comes from behind the mountains, it's almost heavenly. You should see it, Laura."

Her gaze shifted upward and slightly to the right as if she were trying to picture the scene in her head, but all at once a look of confusion crossed her face. "Wait, did you just call me 'Laura?'"

"Did I?" he thought aloud, searching his recent memory, but he had been so focused on trying to describe the setting to her that he couldn't recall his specific words. "I'm sorry, Sharon," he apologized sincerely.

She settled back in her seat, her face softening. "Is that your ex-wife's name? Laura, I mean."

"No," Will answered. "I don't know anyone named Laura, though I've always been partial to the name. I thought maybe I'd use it to name a daughter some day, but then my ex-wife and I only ever had a son. His name is Liam, or sometimes just 'Lee.'" He shook his head. "Is that strange, do you think?" he asked after a beat, "to have a name for a child that doesn't even exist?"

"I don't think so," Sharon said. "I always liked the name William myself, but when my son was born, my ex-husband insisted that we call him Richard. 'Richard William' was our compromise. We call him Ricky."

"So, you just have a son then, too?" he asked.

"No, I have three kids. Would you like to see pictures?" she asked, blushing slightly before quickly adding, "It's ok if you don't."

"No, I'd love to," Will answered and smiled warmly, enjoying the animated way in which she spoke of her children.

Sharon took her phone from her purse and opened the photo app. "I don't think I have one of them all together," she said softly as she skimmed the pictures. Then stopping on one, she turned the device so Will could see. "This is Rusty, my youngest," she explained. "He's a sophomore at UCLA studying journalism."

After he nodded, she turned her phone back around and began to look through the photos again, pausing after she'd scrolled up a bit. "Here's Ricky and my daughter Emily," she said, showing him the photo she had selected. "He lives in Palo Alto, and she lives in New York, so I don't get to see them as often. This is from Christmas."

"They look like great kids; you must be so proud," Will remarked.

"I am," she said wistfully, glancing at the photo again for a few seconds before placing her phone back into her purse. Then, turning back to him, she asked, "Do you have pictures of your son?"

"Oh, yes," he said, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a well-worn leather wallet and began to leaf through it. Before he could find what he was looking for however, the sound of a chuckle from across the table made him pause to look back up at Sharon, whose hand was covering her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

"What?" he asked seriously, not sure what she found so humorous.

"Oh, no I'm sorry," she said waving her hand in front of her face. "I just didn't think anyone kept pictures in their wallet anymore. I was expecting you to take out your cell phone."

"You mean, this thing?" He pulled a small flip phone out of his other pocket and tossed it on the table. "I don't think it even has a camera."

Sharon picked up the phone curiously and turned it over in her hand. "I think my daughter had one of these when she was in college ten years ago. I didn't think they made them like this anymore." A smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth, but he could see her trying to fight it.

"Well, they do," he said gruffly, grabbing the phone back from her and returning it to his pocket. The soft smile that played on his lips gave him away, however. The teasing didn't bother him really; he was used to it.

"Are you one of those people who are afraid of technology?" she asked playfully.

"Not afraid." He shrugged, returning his focus to his wallet as he continued to speak. "I just don't feel the need to carry a computer in my pocket. There's not much of a data signal out where I live anyway… Ah, here we go." He pulled a picture out of its protective sleeve and set in on the table between them. It was a wedding photo of a young, dark-haired groom and his blonde bride in profile. The two were smiling at each other warmly with their hands joined. "This is Liam," Will said, pointing to his son, "and his wife Cora. They were married last year, and they are expecting their first child this summer."

Sharon looked up at him then, her green eyes sparkling. "You're going to be a grandfather? How exciting."

"Yes, it is," Will answered with a nod, returning the photo to his wallet and putting it away. "Though I must admit, it does make me feel old."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I know what you mean. When my daughter turned 30 last year, that was a rude awakening for me."

Will stared at the woman before him, pausing to take in her warm smile and the soft curves that seemed so familiar to him before speaking. "I would have never guessed that you have a 30 year old daughter to look at you."

He detected a blush creeping on her cheeks as she averted her eyes slightly. He hadn't meant to embarrass her, but she was so beautiful that he couldn't help himself.

"We're getting ready to close." Sharon and Will jumped at the server's disruption, neither having seen him approach their table. "Can I leave you the check?"

Will reached into his pocket for his wallet as Sharon moved to open her purse.

"I've got it, Sharon," he said, pulling out a few bills. "It's just coffee." He gestured to the beverages, which they'd barely touched.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he answered with a smile, sliding out of the booth and groaning slightly as he rose to stand. After all, they had been sitting for almost four hours.

Sharon chuckled good-naturedly as she stood as well. "I know how you feel."

Will motioned for Sharon to start for the door ahead of him, and he followed her out. Their pace slowed as they headed across the parking lot to her car. He would be heading back to Bozeman in the morning, but he couldn't fathom the idea of never seeing her again. He was inexplicably drawn to this woman, whom he had met less than 48 hours ago.

When she reached her car, she turned to face him. "I had a lovely time, Will," she said, nervously fiddling with her keys.

"Me, too, Sharon." He hesitated before continuing, but with the prospect of possibly never seeing her again hanging over his head, he thought, _What the hell?_ and asked, "Can I call you some time? I don't know when I'd ever get back out here, but I've really enjoyed talking with you."

"Sure," Sharon answered, sounding hesitant, but he detected a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she reached in her bag for her phone. "So, can your phone remember numbers, or should I write mine down for you?"

"Ha ha," he responded, pulling out his own cell and flipping it open. Sharon gave him her number, and he punched it into his phone before calling her. He watched her phone light up and begin to vibrate before he ended the call. "There, now you have mine. Call me anytime."

"I think I just might, Sheriff," she teased playfully. Then, glancing at the time on her phone's display, she added with a sigh, "but I really should get going."

Sharon glanced down at her keys, but she didn't move to open her door, and Will at once wondered how she might react if he tried to kiss her. He reached his hand up and gently rested it under her chin to tilt her face up toward his. For a second she looked surprised, but her expression quickly softened into an easy smile, and he bent to kiss her lips softly. It barely lasted a second, but he still felt it deep in his bones. It ached him to pull away from her, but he knew he had to go. He still needed to pack, and he had an early flight in the morning. When she finally opened her eyes, her smile widened.

"Goodbye, Sharon," he whispered. "I'll call you."

"See that you do," she replied with a nod, as she unlocked her car and climbed inside. She turned to wave at him through her window before she drove off, and a tightness began to form in Will's chest as the sight of her car grew smaller. He wondered if he'd ever lay eyes on her again.

 _ **TBC**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Several days went by, but Sharon didn't hear from Will.

 _He said he would call, didn't he?_ she asked herself, not remembering the exact words of their last conversation. Surely he wasn't waiting for her to call first, was he? She had enjoyed talking with him and had felt a strong connection, but if she called him, she wasn't sure what she would say. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that it probably never would have worked out anyway. There were just too many miles separating them.

"I'm tired of watching you mope around here, old man," Will's friend and deputy Paul told him one day while they were at work. Will had made the mistake of confiding in him about his date with Sharon when he had returned from Los Angeles, and now Paul wouldn't shut up about her. "Why don't you just call the damn woman?"

"Who are you calling, 'old man'?" Will spat back, his aggravation evident. "I'm only a year older than you!" Honestly, he and Paul had known each other for a long time, but sometimes his friend didn't know when to mind his own business. For the past year and a half, Paul had made it his goal to "get his friend laid" (his words, not Will's). He had assumed that telling him that he had met someone would get him to finally back off. Will had been wrong. If anything, Paul had become even more annoying. "I'll call her when I'm good and ready," he grumbled.

But he didn't. And for awhile it seemed like their first date would be their last until a few weeks later when Sharon stretched her feet out beneath her desk at work and felt herself kick something. Standing and walking around to the other side, she spotted a well-worn, dog-eared paperback that must have been wedged underneath her desk for quite some time. But where could it have come from?

She bent down to pick it up and read the title: _Islanded in a Stream of Stars_ by R.D. Moore. Turning it over to read the synopsis on the back, she was sure that she had never read this particular novel, but it was definitely one of those space opera books that she was a closet fan of. She kept a box of her favorites hidden beneath her bed as if they were a secret stash of erotica. Space fiction had always fascinated her, but she hadn't shared that particular interest with anyone since she had been made fun of for it back in junior high.

She smoothed down the wrinkled cover with her hand before opening it to the first page. Inside _W. Adams_ was written in pencil. _Will must have dropped this when he was here_ , Sharon thought. She really should see that it was returned to him. Smiling, she realized that she now had an excuse to call him.

Later that evening, Sharon paced across her bedroom nervously as she listened to her call to Will ring several times. She was ready to hang up when she finally heard him answer, " _Sheriff_ _Adams_."

Hearing the low timbre of his voice again instantly brought her a warm, calming feeling that she wished she could wrap herself in, and she was momentarily at a loss for words.

After a few seconds of silence, she heard him ask tentatively, " _Sharon, is everything all right_?"

"Yes, sorry, hi," she said, stumbling over her words nervously. "Everything is fine, I just… Didn't you say you were going to call me?" When she heard the words that actually came out of her mouth, she wanted to kick herself. Sharon wasn't one of those desperate, pining women who waited by the phone. She was perfectly capable of calling a man that she was interested in. What was her problem?

Will sighed, " _Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I really wanted to. Thought about it several times actually, I just wasn't sure what I'd say when I did. How are you_?"

Their conversation flowed easily then, and they both forgot why they had been so hesitant about calling in the first place. They talked about everything and nothing: work, their kids, the weather; then finally Sharon brought up the book she had found.

" _Oh, I wondered where that had gotten to,"_ he said. _"I thought maybe I left it on the airplane. You can toss it if you want; that thing is so old, and I've re-read it so many times that I probably know it by heart anyway_."

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that. I can mail it to you, if you give me your address," Sharon offered. "It looks like a pretty good story. I will have to see if my library has it."

" _You like sci-fi novels?"_ Will asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes," she answered quietly, as if confiding a long-held secret, "space opera mostly. I guess you could say they are my guilty pleasure."

" _Me, too,"_ he admitted with a soft chuckle _. "My parents thought maybe I'd become an astronaut, but I became a pilot instead_."

"You fly?" Sharon asked, intrigued. In her entire life she'd only ever flew on commercial jets, and she'd never known anyone who flew for a living.

" _I_ _was in the Air Force for twenty years before I retired. I still fly occasionally, but just for fun now…._ " His voice trailed off, and when she didn't respond, he added, " _Listen, Sharon, why don't you hold onto the book. When you're finished reading it, I'd love to know what you think_."

She hesitated before responding, "I'm not sure when I would be able to get it back to you, though. My job keeps me pretty busy, so I don't always have a lot of time for reading."

" _Then consider it a gift. Never lend books."_ His voice was sincere, and the sentiment touched her.

"Well, then thank you for the gift. I'll look forward to discussing it with you when I finish."

" _You don't have to wait until then to call me, though, Sharon_."

A giddiness that Sharon hadn't experienced since she was teenager began to bubble up inside of her. The only way to describe it was to say she was becoming smitten with this man. "Same goes for you, Will," she answered. "You have a good night."

In actuality, it didn't take Sharon very long to finish Will's book at all, and less than a week later when he called her out of the blue to catch up, they talked about it, amongst other topics, for hours. Sharon suggested one of her favorite books that Will hadn't read yet: _Sine Qua Non_ by Mike Rymer, and they agreed to discuss that one next.

Their weekly phone calls soon turned into twice weekly, then every other day, and by the time three months had passed since they'd first met, they were talking almost every night before bed and had read ten books together.

 **x**

* * *

 **x  
**

 _There she goes again_ , Rusty Beck thought to himself as he witnessed what had become Sharon's nightly ritual of grinning goofily as her phone rang and locking herself in her bedroom to talk for hours. At first he had thought that maybe his brother and sister had begun to call more often, but the smile that lit up her face was not one that she normally reserved for her children. No, if he didn't know better, Rusty would say that his mother was in love.

He had casually asked her about it once or twice, but Sharon had been vague in her response. It was "just a friend," she said, or "someone that I met through work." Rusty racked his brain to think of who it could possibly be, but he continued to come up empty. And if they were such good "friends," why did they only ever talk on the phone? Why not go out sometimes? He quickly came to the realization that he wasn't going to figure this one out on his own—he was going to need reinforcements.

"Hey, Will, did you decide to call earlier tonight?" Sharon teased, as she quietly answered her phone behind her closed bedroom door.

" _Who's Will?"_ an incredibly familiar, but entirely unexpected female voice asked.

 _Damn_ , Sharon thought to herself. That'll teach her to answer her phone without putting on her glasses to check who is calling first.

"Emily!" she greeted her daughter warmly. "How are you, honey?"

" _Who's Will?"_ her daughter asked again, with a teasingly sing-song quality in her voice this time.

Sharon sighed, "A friend. He's just a friend, Emily. Is this the reason that you called me? Have you, by any chance, been talking with Rusty?"

Emily gasped dramatically. " _Mother, I am shocked that you would imply such a thing. I called to talk to you. I just happen to also have some concerns that have been expressed to me by my little brother. Anyway, I thought you'd be happy to know how regularly Rusty and I talk."_

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am happy to hear that you and your brother are keeping in touch; however, if your only motivation in speaking with him is to gossip about my personal life, then I'm not sure how happy that truly makes me."

" _Aw, come on, Mom,"_ her daughter whined. _"Tell me about him. What's he like? How did you two meet?"_

A devious smile curled on Sharon's lips as it dawned on her to inquire, "Tell me, Emily. Are you seeing anyone?"

There was silence on the other end of line until Sharon heard her daughter begin to stutter, " _Well… I… uh…"_

"Mmhm," she hummed in reply. "That's what I thought. It's none of my business, right?"

Emily relented, " _I go out sometimes, but there's no one serious. Rusty says you talk to this guy practically every night."_

"Well," Sharon replied with a shrug, "we enjoy talking. Is there something wrong with that?"

" _No, Mom, nothing at all, it's just...I don't understand. If you like talking with him so much, why is it always on the phone? Why don't you go out once in awhile?"_

After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Sharon explained to her daughter how she and Will had first met and where he lived. She told her that they had gone out once when he was in town, but she hadn't seen him in person since then. She didn't give Emily every detail, avoiding their book discussions and the kiss that they'd shared; after all, she deserved some privacy, but she felt that she got the gist of their story across so Emily could begin to understand the situation.

" _Wow, Mom. He sounds really great. I'm happy for you. I just wish he didn't live so far from you."_

"Me, too," Sharon agreed, "but at least he's not as far away as, say, New York."

 _"Yeah, I guess you're right, but I'll be seeing you in less than a month for the big celebration!"_

Sharon groaned audibly. She hadn't meant for her daughter to hear it, but it couldn't be helped.

 _"Come on, Mom. It's your birthday. You should be excited. Where's your sense of occasion?_ " she teased.

"It's not the day as much as the milestone. It makes me feel so old."

 _"Sixty is not old! And anyway, you look fabulous, Mom. No one would ever guess you were that age."_

Sharon smiled at the phone. "Thank you for saying that, sweetie."

" _And anyway, now I'm excited because I know exactly what I'm going to get you for your birthday."_

She was almost afraid to ask. "What's that?"

" _A plane ticket to Bozeman_."

"Emily Grace, don't you dare!" she warned. Her face flushed hot at the prospect of showing up at Will's home uninvited and unannounced.

 _"What_?" she asked, her voice softening, the teasing tone slowing fading. " _Don't you want to see him_?"

"Yes, well, I do, but I can't just invite myself to stay at his cabin."

" _He lives in a cabin?!"_ Sharon had to pull the phone away from her ear, which was ringing from Emily's excited outburst. " _Like a real log cabin? That is so cool, Mom."_

She was glad that her daughter was happy for her, but she needed to be sure that she was clear in her wishes. "Please don't buy me a plane ticket, Emily."

" _Okay, fine I won't. I'll just have to think of something else then_." Her voice suddenly took on a devious tone, and Sharon began to wonder if maybe the plane ticket would be the better option. Before she could voice her concern, however, her phone buzzed and she pulled it away from her ear to check the display.

"Emily I have to go. I'm getting another call," she explain quickly, wanting to catch Will before he was sent to voicemail.

" _Ooh, is it Wi-ill?_ " her daughter teased.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I'm hanging up now. I love you." _Even when you drive me crazy_ , she thought.

" _I love you, too, Mom. And please tell the sheriff I say, 'Hello._ '"

 _ **TBC**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I wish you would tell me where we're going," Sharon called from the inside of her closet to Emily, who was sitting on the bed next to a pile of clothes that had already been rejected for the evening. All three of Sharon's children were in town for the weekend to celebrate her birthday, but they were being tight-lipped about their plans. She knew that they were taking her to dinner, but not knowing the venue or the type of restaurant, she was having trouble deciding what to wear.

"And if you care at all about living to see forty, young lady, there had better not be any waiters with candle-laden desserts serenading our table tonight," Sharon warned, appearing with a lavender dress, which she held in front of herself as she surveyed her reflection in the full-length mirror before tilting her head, sighing, and returning to her closet.

"What's wrong with that one, Mom? You look great in purple." When Sharon didn't answer, Emily continued more loudly," Do you know what your problem is? You have way too many clothes. I've never met anyone with such an extensive wardrobe. What's the deal with that anyway?"

Sharon shrugged as she walked out again, this time with a red, flowing dress that was a little longer and more casual than the last. She held it in front of herself and stared at her reflection for awhile as she mused, "When I was in high school, we had to wear uniforms. There were only three choices, which I had to rotate every day. I began to have this recurring nightmare of being an adult and only having three outfits to choose from for the rest of my life." Sharon shuddered as she relayed the memory. "I swore that when I made enough money to buy my own clothes that I would always have plenty of choices."

Emily was only half-listening, because her eyes were currently transfixed on her mother and the dress she was considering. It was gorgeous, with a flattering cut and a bright, crimson shade that set off the subtle red highlights in her hair perfectly. "Where did you get that dress, Mom?" she asked in wonder.

Sharon searched her memory, but she couldn't recall. "I'm not sure exactly. I bought it some time ago, but I don't think I've ever worn it. What do you think?" she asked, turning toward where her daughter sat and holding it up so she could have a better look.

"I think it's perfect. You should definitely wear it tonight."

x

* * *

x

"She's almost ready," Emily said, coming out of her mother's bedroom to tell her brothers, who were sitting on the couch absorbed with their cell phones.

"Okay," Ricky answered, not looking up.

After a few minutes of silence, the door opened and Sharon walked out. Rusty looked up from his cell to acknowledge his mother. "Wow, Mom, you look really beautiful," he remarked, standing up.

When Ricky and Emily heard their brother's comment, they both looked up as well. Emily had already seen their mother, so her lips just curled into a easy smile, but she didn't comment.

"Yeah, Mom, you look great. Happy birthday," Ricky added, rising and crossing the room to kiss Sharon's cheek.

"Thank you both for saying that," she said with a soft smile, glancing down at herself. She was fairly pleased with the way she looked this evening, but she was still the slightest bit uncomfortable. The bright red color and loose, flowing style of dress was not something she would normally wear. She still wasn't sure where this dress that she had unearthed from the back of her closet had originally come from, but she had to admit that wearing it felt good.

"Are we all set to go then?" Sharon asked. "Do we have a reservation?"

"Yes, but we still have about 15 minutes before we need to leave," Emily said, glancing at her phone to check the time.

"There's not going to be a big group of people surprising me when we get to the restaurant or anything, right?" Sharon took the time to lock eyes with each one of her children as she spoke.

Ricky shook his head quickly. "No, no big group or anything, Mom."

"Ok good, so it will just be the four us," Sharon said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Rusty's eyes grew wide then, and he opened his mouth before quickly closing it and turning to his brother.

"What?" Sharon asked, noticing the subtle exchange between her sons.

No one spoke then, and her children's lips suddenly all pursed in identical expressions.

"Russell Thomas," she warned, "remember who still pays your cell phone bill."

"I, uh," her youngest child stuttered. "It was her idea!" He pointed an accusing finger across the room to his sister.

Emily's jaw dropped. "Way to throw me under the bus, little brother." She crossed her arms, shooting him a look eerily similar to their mother's. "I didn't hear either of you offer any objections."

"Would somebody please tell me what is going on?" Sharon raised her voice over her squabbling children.

All at once, a silence fell over the room as three sharp knocks were heard.

Sharon turned toward the door, and then whirled back around to face her children, her expression part shock and part fear. "Who is that?"

"I think you should probably answer it, Mom," Rusty mumbled.

Sharon took a second to survey them all one more time, but they were suddenly unwilling to meet her eyes. Steeling herself, she moved toward the door and pulled it open slowly. Her breath caught when she saw who was standing on the other side.

"Will," she breathed.

x

* * *

x

Will wasn't sure how it had happened, but he had actually forgotten how beautiful Sharon was. The memory that he carried with him paled in comparison to the sight of the woman standing before him in her bright, red dress; and because she wasn't wearing her glasses, he was afforded an even clearer view of her striking, green eyes. Honestly, she took his breath away.

He hadn't shared it with anyone, but Will had begun having dreams about her. In actuality, his dreams started before they'd met, but he hadn't known who the charming, mysterious woman in them was back then. After he met Sharon for the first time, though, the once blurry, indistinct face became crystal clear.

Oftentimes the dreams were pleasant. The two of them would be walking together, chatting about nothing, or sometimes smoking some unknown substance. That always made him snicker: two cops getting high together and laughing hysterically. From what he'd come to know about Sharon, he could never imagine her doing something like that. Still, it was amusing to imagine. Details about their conversations were often fuzzy once he woke up, but what did stay with him was the way her laughter and smile would fill his entire being with a warmth that was beyond explanation.

The dreams weren't always happy, though. Sometimes he would find himself holding vigil at her bedside, while she lay pale and unmoving, her complexion an ominous grey. Her head would be covered with a scarf, and although he never saw it, he knew that her beautiful hair was gone. In those dreams, he would hold her cool, clammy hand in his and watch her sleep. Those dreams frightened him.

If Will was being completely honest, he truly did love talking with Sharon, and anytime they chatted the hours flew by; but one of the real reasons that he started calling her every night was to make sure that she was okay. Deep down he knew that his concerns bordered on ridiculous—they were just dreams after all—but he couldn't help himself. The thought of losing her was quickly becoming unimaginable.

When Emily had first contacted him about coming out for Sharon's birthday, he had initially been hesitant. It's not that he didn't want to see her; that was the furthest thing from the truth. His reluctance stemmed from a fear of upsetting Sharon or making her uncomfortable by showing up at her home unannounced. However, the prospect of seeing her again was too strong a desire to ignore, and he eventually agreed to take part in her kids' little scheme.

Will shook his head slightly, suddenly cognizant of the fact that he had been staring at her for far too long without speaking, ever since she'd answered the door and brought a hand to her chest in surprise.

"Happy birthday, Sharon," he greeted her warmly before offering the flower arrangement that he had temporarily forgotten he'd been holding.

"How did..." Sharon began, taking the flowers from him and looking puzzled. Will noticed her children all begin to relax when her voice came out sounding more curious than angry.

"It _was_ my idea, Mom," Emily admitted, taking a hesitant step toward her mother. "I hope you're not upset. I asked Rusty to get Will's number from your phone so I could contact him."

Sharon turned to face her youngest son. "How did you know my pass code?"

Rusty opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it, a guilty expression coloring his face.

Ricky spoke up then, "Come on, Mom. You use our birthdays for everything: the code for your storage locker, your ATM pin. You'd think as a cop you'd know better."

x

* * *

x

Sharon couldn't help but break into an relaxed grin then. Her children had meant well, and although she had been caught completely off-guard by his arrival, she was honestly very glad for an opportunity to see Will again.

"Oh my goodness, Will!" she exclaimed as she whirled around to face him, suddenly realizing how long he'd been forced to awkwardly stand in her doorway while she processed the situation. "I'm so sorry. Please, come in," she beckoned, holding the door opened widely and waving him in with her hand.

Closing the door behind him, Sharon tentatively reached for his hand, and he threaded his fingers between hers, which instantly calmed her as she led him over to introduce him to her children. After everyone had shaken hands, Emily ushered her brothers out, suggesting that they head down to the garage while Will helped Sharon put her flowers in some water.

Sharon offered a nod and a smile of thanks to her daughter for allowing the two of them a moment alone before they all headed to the restaurant.

When the door finally closed and they were left in companionable silence, Will and Sharon spent a moment simply taking in the sight of one another. He raised a hand to caress her cheek, as if he needed to touch her to make sure she was real.

"That's a nice color on you," he said when he finally spoke.

Sharon smiled, leaning into his touch as she surveyed the face that had begun to permeate her dreams, which had been uncharacteristically pleasant lately. She almost looked as forward to them as she did to his nightly phone calls, although seeing him in person definitely topped both scenarios.

"It's good to see you, Sharon." His smile widened as he softly stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"You, too, Will," she answered, and a fluttering feeling like butterflies in her stomach began to overwhelm her as his blue eyes bore into hers and his mouth inched closer.

When his lips captured hers, a shiver ran through her, and she hummed in pleasure. If she hadn't been holding the flowers to her chest, she would have reached her hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer when she felt his tongue begin to trace her bottom lip slowly.

He began to pull back, and she involuntarily sighed at the loss of contact, blushing slightly at not being able to control her responses to him. Although she would be content to lock the door and spend the entire evening kissing him and more, she was reminded that her children were waiting for them and that they had a dinner reservation.

"I should, um," she swallowed and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing pulse before gesturing toward the kitchen with her flowers.

"Sure," Will answered with a nod. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

x

* * *

x

Dinner went surprisingly well. As easy as Sharon and Will's private conversations had gone, the conversations with her children flowed just as naturally. Sharon was so happy to see her children comfortable with Will. She was beginning to think that their relationship could potentially have a future, although they still had a lot of obstacles to overcome, namely the thousand-mile distance that separated them.

Will and Ricky bonded over football, which Will was surprised to discover also interested Sharon.

"My father was an avid football fan, and I adored my father, so I love football," she explained with a shrug.

Emily and he had discussed books. Will wasn't only a fan of science fiction, but he also had an appreciation for the classics, which Emily had studied in pursuit of her fine arts degree at NYU. And Will also enjoyed a good game of Chess, which delighted Rusty. They agreed to a match the next time Will was in town.

"But don't think I'm gonna go easy on you just because you're my mom's boyfriend or anything," Rusty warned, and Sharon's eye grew wide at her son's comment. Their relationship wasn't clearly defined at this point, and she hoped that Will didn't think that Rusty's use of the word 'boyfriend' was the result of something that she'd said

"I would be disappointed if you did," Will answered with a smile, and reached under the table to give Sharon's hand a reassuring squeeze.

As they were leaving the restaurant, Emily pulled her mother aside. "Listen, Mom, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but if you'd like some time alone with Will, there's a movie that the boys and I want to see."

Sharon searched her daughter's face. There was no teasing expression or knowing smile, just a genuine sentiment, for which she was truly grateful. Now she just needed to decide what she wanted. Of course she would like some time alone with Will—it was a precious commodity. She had no idea what it would lead to, but she desired it just the same. Momentarily she hesitated, though. What would her children think? Quickly she brushed that thought aside when she reasoned that they were all adults, and it was none of their business anyway.

" _Thank you_ ," Sharon mouthed, her eyes shining with gratitude as she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "For everything," she softly whispered into Emily's ear before kissing her cheek. She squeezed her little girl tight and held onto her for a few seconds longer before letting her go.

"I love you, Mom. We'll text you when we're on our way home, but we'll take our time," her daughter said with a wink. Sharon rolled her eyes. She should have known that she wouldn't get away without at least a little teasing.

"Do you drink tea?" Sharon asked when they arrived back at her condo, and she started toward the kitchen before Will had a chance to answer. She needed something to do with her shaking hands, and she figured that making tea might help. Although she had been looking forward to finally having some time alone with him, once the prospect had become reality she'd turned into a nervous wreck.

Truthfully, her feelings for him had begun to frighten her. They had been talking for almost four months, but this was only the second occasion on which they had spent time together in person, and all she could think about was kissing him again and what else that might possibly lead to.

"Sure, I'll have whatever you're having," he answered, following her to the kitchen.

Sharon filled the kettle and set it on the stove, crossed her arms nervously, uncrossed them, and then started to gather items for the tray: spoons, mugs, sugar, creamer, and napkins.

"How's Cora doing?" she suddenly thought to ask, attempting to break the awkward silence.

"Hmm?" Will replied, looking as if his thoughts had begun to wander.

"Your daughter-in-law. She's due soon, right?"

"Yes, she only has eight weeks to go. She's doing well. I haven't seen them since Christmas—they live in Denver—but I talked with them last week, and she sounds great. A little tired, but fine. It's rough being so far along when the weather's getting warmer, though."

"I know how she feels. Ricky was born in September, so I was in my third trimester during the hottest part of the year—in Los Angeles." Sharon shuddered at the memory. "It was not a pleasant experience. Emily was much easier. She was born in December—an early Christmas present," she mused.

"And Rusty?"

"Rusty?" Sharon asked, shaking her head to dispel the memory of a newborn Emily in order to return to the present moment. "What about him?" The kettle whistled then, and she moved to turn off the burner and pour the boiling water into the tea pot.

"Your pregnancy with him?"

"Oh!" Sharon answered, suddenly understanding. "Rusty is adopted. He's only been with me for about five years now. Did I not mention that?" Sharon thought back. She supposed that she hadn't. It had been a long time since she'd thought of Rusty as anything other than one of her kids, period. The fact that Will had assumed he was one of her biological children delighted her. She certainly didn't love him any differently than the ones she had carried. He was the child her heart had chosen, and her family wouldn't be complete without him.

"I never would have guessed," Will said. "I mean, he doesn't exactly look like you, but I figured that he favored your ex-husband. The three of them certainly banter, and, um, _conspire_ like siblings."

Sharon chuckled. "That they do." _Finally_ , she thought, and the realization warmed her heart. Lifting the tea tray, she motioned with it toward the living room. "Shall we?

x

* * *

x

After sitting and drinking their tea on the couch while enjoying the view of the city through Sharon's windows, Will suggested that they move out onto the balcony.

"If I stay inside too long, I start to feel claustrophobic," he explained. "I need to get out into the fresh air several times a day in order to feel alive." It was true. His cabin had several large windows and skylights to let in the natural light, but he still spent as much time outdoors as possible, tending to his land and enjoying the view of the mountains. At work, he'd offer to take patrol frequently even though as Sheriff he wasn't required to be in the rotation.

"I know what you mean." Sharon leaned against the railing and gazed out to the view of the city. "I try to take a walk at lunch if I can, but I at least have that nice, large window in my office if I end up being stuck inside all day. And I love my view here. I have a view of downtown LA, and if you look that way," she pointed off toward the right, "you can see Griffith Park."

"But you don't have any stars here," he remarked quietly.

Sharon looked at him questioningly before pointing upward. "There are stars up there."

"Yeah, but not like back home. Too much light pollution."

"That's true, I suppose..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced back out into the night.

"I'd love for you to see it, Sharon. If you'd like to come out to Montana sometime," he said, turning toward her. "I know it's awfully far, but—"

"I'd love to," she answered quickly, a soft smile playing on her lips, and he couldn't help himself; he had to kiss her then.

Resting his hands on her sides, he stroked them with his thumbs gently before pulling her toward him with more force than even he had intended. He could tell it caught her off guard when he felt her pull back slightly in surprise before cupping both sides of his face with her hands and slowly drinking him in. He couldn't get enough, her kiss tasting both familiar and brand new. When the need for air became desperate, they pulled apart slightly, but he was immediately drawn to her neck. Her soft moans urged him on as he inched his thumb toward her breast, while continuing to enjoy the taste of her skin.

"Will," she panted, her voice breathy and barely audible. When he landed on a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear she repeated his name with slightly more volume, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. "Please," she begged, and he pulled back to study her then, noticing her usually sage-colored eyes had taken on a darker, emerald hue.

She gently rested her forehead against his and they both fought to catch their breath. "I just. I need," she started and stopped, her breath coming in short bursts.

"Take a second, Sharon," he said, rubbing her back reassuringly. "It's all right."

And she did, breathing slowly until her heart rate began to slow toward some semblance of normalcy.

"Tell me what you need," he coaxed, searching her eyes. "Do you need to stop?"

Sharon gazed at him for a few seconds before nodding slowly.

"Okay, then," he said, offering her a smile that he hoped was reassuring. "Let's sit here." He motioned to the bench on her balcony, and he led her there, pulling her down to sit beside him and wrapping a protective arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he began to stroke her hair. Then, placing a gentle kiss to her head, he urged, "Tell me what you're thinking."

Sharon was silent for a few moments. "I'm thinking that I'd like to ask you to spend the night," she began, as she traced the buttons of his shirt, "but I'm also thinking that it's too soon, and that I still need some time to process everything."

"Well, if you're not sure, then the time is not right. There's no rush, Sharon."

"I know but, you're only here for a couple of days, and then who knows when we'll see one another again."

"That's true, but I think you were right the first time. It probably is a little too soon for us." He bumped her head with his shoulder playfully. "It's only our second date, and you're already trying to take advantage of me."

Sharon sat up quickly to look at Will, who had begun to laugh softly.

"Oh, you!" she scolded, slapping his shoulder.

"Ouch!" he said, rubbing the tender spot. "I didn't know that my girlfriend was so tough."

Her lips curled into a smile. "Did you call me your girlfriend?"

"I think Rusty started it at dinner, when he referred to me as your boyfriend."

Sharon bit her lip. "Did that bother you?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head, "does it bother you?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "I just think it sounds a little silly at our age, but I suppose that's what you are. I mean, I'm not seeing anyone else, are you?" she asked tentatively.

"Nope. It wouldn't be fair, really, to the other women, because you're all that I can think about." He reached to stroke her cheek, but the sound of Sharon's phone vibrating on the table made them both jump and glance over toward it.

She picked it up and squinted, trying to decipher what was on the display, but it was no use without her glasses.

"Can you read this?" she asked Will as she handed him her phone.

Will reached into his pocket for his reading glasses and put them on. "It's Emily. _We're done at the theater,"_ he said, reading the text _. "Is it safe to come home, or should we go and get ice cream?"_ His face broke into a grin when he finished. "Do you want me to answer for you?"

"No that's okay. I'll get my glasses and do it in a minute, but you should, um..." her voice trailed off as she motioned toward the door.

"Probably get going," he finished for her.

"I'm not kicking you out or anything."

"No, I know, Sharon. It's fine. Here, let me take this," he offered, picking up the tea tray despite her protests and carrying it into the kitchen.

They both walked as slowly as possible, but they still reached her front door far too soon.

"So, tomorrow," he began. He had one more day in Los Angeles, only having managed two days away from the office on such short notice, but he hoped that he would be spending it with her.

"I'd love it if you came over for breakfast. Shall we say around 9?"

"Sounds good," he replied with a smile, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Good night Sharon," he said, kissing her softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 _ **TBC**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Special thanks to **Kadi219** , who offered feedback on this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Will flew home the next evening and he and Sharon resumed their nightly phone calls, but something had changed. Sharon still looked forward to them all day, but after they hung up each night instead of feeling relaxed and content, she was left wanting more. Simply hearing his voice daily was no longer enough.

"Of course I have a computer and the internet," he grumbled when she asked him. "I'm not a complete Luddite."

Sharon asked Ricky to call Will and talk him through setting up Skype on his computer so they could at least see one another when they talked, and although that was better, she still wasn't satisfied.

She began to crave his touch. She found herself distracted at work, able to think of little else than him. The memory of his kiss still lingered on her lips, even after an entire month had gone by. Slowly she began to formulate plans for a trip to Montana. She could scarcely believe it, but she was actually researching flights from Los Angeles to Bozeman. Certainly she had accumulated enough vacation days over the years, so taking some time off wouldn't be an issue, but was it crazy or selfish of her to run off like this? To want to spend time with a man whom she barely knew, yet she felt like he understood her like no one she'd ever met? Didn't she deserve some happiness after spending her entire adult life taking care of a drunk of a husband, raising two children, and then adopting a third completely on her own? Hadn't she earned the right to live a little? She decided that she had.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"Do you know where the Captain is going on vacation?" Provenza asked the squad in a hushed tone one day after Sharon had excused herself to her office.

Mike Tao shrugged. "I assumed she was going to New York to visit Emily," he remarked, seemingly uninterested in the conversation as he continued to type at his computer.

"She's not going to New York," Buzz offered.

"Buzz?" Provenza probed, eyeing the younger man curiously.

"What? Rusty and I talk," he reminded them.

"Spill," the senior lieutenant commanded.

"I think if she wanted us to know, then she would have told us," Buzz insisted.

"She bought new boots," Amy piped in, and all the men in the room suddenly turned to face her. "What?" she asked innocently. "I saw her at the mall last weekend."

They didn't know it, but Sharon's office door was ajar, and she had heard every word of their conversation. She smiled at Buzz's refusal to share what he knew with the rest of them. It would be interesting to see in the upcoming days what good investigators the Major Crimes division actually were, not that she'd left them many clues to work with. Her relationship with Will wasn't exactly a secret, but she liked having one just the same. At least for now.

She glanced down at her laptop to read her e-mail from Will again:

 _I can't wait to see you. xoxo_

 _\- Will_

She couldn't either—she would be leaving in three days.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"So what time does her flight get in?" Paul asked Will as they shared a casual drink after work at Joe's, one of their favorite watering holes.

"1:30," Will answered curtly. Although he was thrilled that Sharon was coming out to see him tomorrow, he could do without his friend's incessant questions about her and what he had planned for their weekend together.

"And are we going to get to meet this mystery woman?" Paul quipped.

"She's not a mystery. Her name is Sharon Raydor, and I've been telling you about her for months."

"Yeah, but you could be making her up. She could be the product of one of those dreams that you used to have. I haven't seen a picture or anything," he glanced at him curiously with his good eye before throwing back the last of his drink.

Will had always regretted telling Paul about his dreams when they'd first started. After the two of them had come back from the war, Will initially had trouble adjusting and was diagnosed with PTSD. He began to have flashbacks, except that's not exactly what they were. Sometimes they were vivid memories of the things they'd gone through over in Vietnam, but some of them were not things that he ever remembered happening or that ever could have happened, like his visions of flying through outer space or being shot at by eight-foot-tall robots.

 _"You read too many of those fuckin' space books, old man,"_ Paul had said, and Will hadn't shared his dreams with anyone except his therapist since then. As far as Paul was concerned, he'd stopped having them over thirty years ago.

"How would I show you her picture anyway?" Will griped. "You know that I don't have a camera on my phone."

"Maybe you should have a photo made for your wallet," Paul joked. When Will didn't respond, he added in a more serious tone, "Helen asked if you'd bring her by _Ambrosia_ tomorrow night. She has to work, but she said she'd be able to stop by your table and say a quick hello."

"I'll think about it."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"And if you need anything, you call Lieutenant Provenza or Buzz. Or Julio. Any of them really," Sharon instructed Rusty early Friday morning outside of Terminal 6 at LAX, where he was dropping her off.

He sighed. "Mom, I'm going to be fine. I'm 20 years old, remember? Please don't worry about me."

"Worrying is my job as your mom," she said, smoothing down his hair and running his hand over his cheek, "and it doesn't matter how old you are; I'm always going to be your mom. You know that, right?"

"I do," he answered with a nod before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. "But I want you to enjoy yourself this weekend. You deserve it. And tell Will I say hello and that he had better be practicing his chess moves. I was serious about that match."

They broke apart then, and Sharon smiled at her son. "I'm sure he was, too. I love you," she reminded him, squeezing his hand and releasing it before extending the handle of her suitcase.

"I love you, too. Have a safe flight."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

Sharon had brought a book and read it for a few hours on the plane, but when the they flew over the Rockies, she was transfixed by the view. The mountains were so beautiful. The captain came over the speaker and told them that they were preparing to land. She couldn't believe that she was finally there.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

All of Sharon's plans for a polite hug and chaste kiss hello flew out the window when she saw Will standing outside of the secure area casually leaning against a column wearing jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. It was like the lovesick teenage girl suddenly came out of her, and she began to walk faster, dropping her bags and almost breaking into a run toward him. He opened his arms to her, and she practically leapt into them and kissed him soundly, even opening her mouth slightly in public no less. She didn't care. She was overcome with joy at seeing him again, and she couldn't help herself. Glancing to her left and right discreetly after they broke apart, she didn't see anyone staring and that made her feel a little better about her overt display of affection.

"Well that was one hell of a greeting," Will said with a smile. "Not that I'm complaining."

Sharon blushed, not saying anything, but simply happy to be with him again.

"Come on, I have so much to show you."

 **x  
**

* * *

 **x**

Will didn't want to overwhelm Sharon after a long morning of traveling, but with only three days together, they didn't have much time. He took her to his cabin first so she could put her things down and change. He had made up the guest room for her so that she would be comfortable, and she seemed grateful. He had no expectations for this weekend, he was just happy to be spending time with her. After lunch and a short walk around the property, he took her downtown. He showed her his office and introduced her to Paul.

"So you do exist!" Paul exclaimed, shaking Sharon's hand warmly. She gave Will a cursory glance and raised an eyebrow, but Will just shook his head in a "don't ask" kind of way. Sharon smiled, but didn't comment, allowing Paul to take over the tour and show her around the Sheriff's Department of the Law and Justice Center. After they said their goodbyes, they took a stroll downtown where he showed Sharon the local shops and introduced her to some of his friends around town.

"Are you getting hungry?" he asked when the sun had dipped lower in the sky. "Paul's wife Helen works at this local bar and restaurant called Ambrosia, and she asked if we would stop by so she can meet you. We don't have to eat there if you don't want."

"No, it's fine, Will. I want to meet your friends, and I'm sure I'll find something to eat there."

"It can be kind of a rough crowd," he warned.

"I'm a cop, remember?" she replied with a smirk. "I think I can handle it."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"So this is the infamous Sharon Raydor. She does exist!" Helen exclaimed as she spotted them in the corner booth.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Sharon turned to Will, eyeing him curiously.

Will shrugged. He was going to kill Paul.

"Order anything you want, Sharon. It's on me," Helen insisted. "I gotta get back to work, but I'll stop by to check on you later." The blonde woman winked in their direction and lightly brush Will's shoulder before sauntering off.

"She's the biggest flirt there is, but she makes great tips," Will deadpanned.

Sharon snorted loudly and brought a hand up to cover her mouth, but she was not able to contain the hysterical laughter that followed.

Will had never heard a more beautiful sound. He wanted to make her laugh like that for the rest of his life.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"So, I'd like to take you up in my plane tomorrow," Will said as they stood outside of the guest bedroom saying their goodnights. "We don't really have time to explore Yellowstone this visit, but we could at least fly over it, so I can show you the highlights. Then I thought we could hike up to Palisade Falls, the local waterfall here. It's very picturesque, and it's a fairly easy hike, if that's okay with you."

"That sounds wonderful, Will. I'm the tourist, so whatever you think, I'm up for it," she answered, smiling up at him.

"Good night, Sharon," he said, kissing her softly. "Sweet dreams.

"You, too, Will."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

The next day was just about perfect. The sky was the brightest blue that Sharon had ever seen. The view of the National Park from Will's plane was exquisite. The next time that she came back here (she was already planning the next trip in her head), they would definitely need to explore the park. She had visited Zion National Park during one of her family's vacations to Utah, and she had seen the Grand Canyon as a child, but Yellowstone would be a new experience.

The hike up to the falls was breathtaking. Will had been right—it was a fairly easy climb, but Sharon did lose her footing once, and Will had to catch her so that she didn't fall.

"Frak!" she exclaimed, trying to regain her balance amongst the rocky terrain.

Will couldn't help but laugh at her strange outburst. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, um," she stuttered, slightly embarrassed. "It was something that my sisters and I used to say growing up. You know, instead of the actual f-word." She couldn't believe that she'd let the long-forgotten nonsense word from her childhood slip out. "I can't remember which one of us came up with it, but we would use it all the time, thinking that it was better than the alternative, although my mother still didn't appreciate it very much." Sharon lips twitched into a smile at the memory.

Will let out a soft chuckle. "I like it. Do you mind if I use it now and then?"

"Not at all," she answered.

"Are you okay to keep going? It's not much further now."

Sharon nodded. "Lead the way, sir."

When they reach the top, the two of them stood in awe for a long while, simply watching the water flow over the jagged rocks and into the pool below. Sharon leaned closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder, and Will turned her face toward him to kiss her. They enjoyed the lazy, languid exploration of lips and tongues for several minutes with the thundering water drowning out all other sounds and thoughts but of the two of them. God help her, but Sharon could literally feel herself falling unabashedly in love with this man—she might even be there already.

They ate a picnic lunch under the shade of some trees, and although they didn't say much, the silence was comfortable. Sharon tried her hardest not to think about the fact that she would be flying home in a little over 24 hours and to just enjoy the quiet moment alone with him.

They took their time hiking back down, and when they got back to Will's cabin, they relaxed on the porch as he read to her. The sound of his voice was so soothing, and they both ended up nodding off. When they woke up, the sun was setting, and Will grilled some chicken and vegetables for them both. They chatted for awhile more until the hour grew late, and they kissed one another good night. Sharon lay in the bed in Will's guest room pondering all that had transpired over the last two days. If she had no responsibilities, no Rusty, and no job at the LAPD, she thought, she could see herself living here in Montana. She wasn't sure whether it was the cabin or Will or both, but she felt so at home here—she couldn't explain it. She found herself wishing he was beside her so she could sleep wrapped in his arms. But, why couldn't he be? He was right down the hall, not a thousand miles away like most nights that she lay thinking of him. What was holding her back from going to him right now?

Sharon got up and stepped out into the hall. When she reached Will's door, she didn't knock but walked right in. He looked a little surprised but genuinely happy to see her, setting his book on the nightstand as he patted the spot beside him, which was closest to the door. Sharon ignored his gesture and instead walked around to his side of the bed to face him. Wordlessly, she switched off the lamp, placed her hand on his cheek, and leaned in to kiss him soundly, no longer holding anything back.

After a few seconds, Will pulled back slightly. "Are you sure, Sharon?" he whispered, caressing the side of her face.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she answered without hesitation. "Make love to me."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

Sharon had never seen so many stars. As she gazed upward through the two large skylights in the bedroom ceiling, she felt as if she were lying outside beneath the night sky instead of curled up with Will under the soft blankets of his bed.

She had never felt so at peace, her body sated and spent, wrapped in a lover's embrace. It had been a long time, far too long since she'd done this, but Will had been patient and gentle, taking his time to ensure she was ready. He made her feel treasured, like something precious.

When he had finished, only after waiting for her first, she had collapsed on his chest and lain there for several minutes, not wanting to let go of him just yet, and he let her linger. Eventually she moved to his side and curled herself around him, resting her head on his outstretched arm as her fingertips softly traced the red, jagged scar that ran down his breastbone.

That was where she found herself now, lying bathed in the moonlight with him, the fair skin of her arm glowing almost white in contrast to his olive complexion. An unspoken question was perched on the tip of her tongue, and the memory of her first, frightening dream of him was fresh in her mind.

"You can ask," Will rumbled softly, and Sharon tilted her head up to search his sapphire irises.

"You don't have to tell me," she said honestly.

"No, it's fine," he answered, bending his elbow to stroke her hair as he spoke. "I told you that I was in the Air Force. We fought in Vietnam, Paul and I; we were in the same flight—that's what the units are called—and that's how we first met. One day during a routine fly-over, we were shot at, our engine failed, and we had to bail out. We landed in enemy territory, and we tried to find our way back to base. We camped out in the jungle for three nights until we were discovered. I was shot twice. Paul got away, but he came back for me. He caught some shrapnel in the eye—that's how he lost it—but he still pulled me out. He saved my life."

Sharon was quiet then, pondering all that he'd just shared with her, while thinking back to her dream of of him being shot. It hadn't been a premonition at all; it had been a memory, but how could that be when it had happened before she'd met him and in a place she'd never been?

"Can I ask about yours?" he posed, breaking the silence.

"My what?" she asked, confusion clouding her face. His sudden question had startled her out of her thoughts.

"Your scar." He nodded toward her, and she pulled the covers down to reveal the faded, pink line across her lower abdomen.

"It's from my c-section. I told you that my pregnancy with Ricky was difficult, but it wasn't just because of the summer heat," she recalled, replacing the blankets and snuggling impossibly closer to him. "I was in labor for over 24 hours when he started to show signs of distress. When they delivered him, he was blue. The cord had wrapped around his neck twice, but he was a fighter. After an agonizing few moments, he started screaming his head off." She stopped briefly, her lips twitching into a smile before continuing, "and he didn't stop for the next three months. I didn't think I'd ever sleep again."

"I remember some long, exhausting nights with Liam," Will mused. Some quiet followed. "What about this one?" he asked tentatively, gently reaching across his chest to trace the faded, pink indentation on the side of her breast.

Sharon moved her hand to cover his. "Oh, that. I'm surprised you even noticed it."

He quietly spoke into her hair, "I spent quite a while studying your body this evening."

Worshiping was closer to the truth actually, Sharon thought to herself. Will had explored practically every inch of her. She shivered in pleasure at the memory, and his hand stilled, misinterpreting her silence and physical reaction.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I unders—"

"No, it's fine, really," she reassured him. "I was in my early forties, a single mom with two young teenagers that I was running from school to baseball to ballet. I had just made captain at the LAPD. It was a really busy time. Anyway, when you turn forty, you're supposed to start getting mammograms every year, and I had gone once or twice, but I was putting off my next one. My youngest sister Katie is an OBGYN, and she kept bugging me to go. Our grandmother died of breast cancer, so I guess with our family history she figured it was especially important. It got to the point where I was avoiding her calls, which is ridiculous, so I made the appointment to shut her up essentially." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "They found some abnormalities, so they scheduled me for a biopsy and found what they called 'stage zero' cancer. I had a lumpectomy and six weeks of radiation, and I go back once a year to get checked, but I've been fine ever since. I sometimes think about how if it wasn't for my little sister..." her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. "I guess I'm grateful she is such a pain in the ass."

Will was quiet then, and Sharon lifted her head and propped herself up on her elbow to gauge his expression. "Are you okay?' she asked.

"Yes," he answered, smiling. "I'm just grateful your sister is a pain in the ass."

"And I'm grateful that Paul went back to save you," she answered, and she leaned down to kiss him before settling back into the crook of his arm.

"Sharon?" Will asked, his voice sounding uncertain.

"Yes?" she answered, returning to tracing patterns on his chest with her fingers.

"This is going to sound strange."

"What?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

Her hand stilled. Why was he bringing this up now? "I'm Catholic," she stated plainly.

"And?" he asked, dragging out the word.

"And Catholics don't," she explained, spouting what years of religious education had taught her. "When you die your soul goes to heaven or hell and that's where you stay for eternity. The end."

"Okay," he said, not sounding convinced but willing to let the subject drop.

"Okay what?" she pushed.

"So you didn't really answer."

Sharon sighed, "I don't know, Will. I've never really thought about it." She tried her best to sound irritated by his questions, but she was lying. The thought _had_ crossed her mind once or twice, but the prospect scared the hell out of her. It was crazy, wasn't it?

"Sharon?"

"Hmm?" she hummed, hoping that he was changing the subject.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Will, I..." she stuttered, completely caught off guard by his spontaneous declaration. It's not that she didn't feel the same—that was the furthest thing from the truth—but the words were caught in her throat, and she couldn't free them. Why did he have to go and bring up reincarnation?

"You don't have to say anything, Sharon," he reassured her. "I just wanted you to know. Sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

Will settled into the pillows and closed his eyes, utter peace and relaxation seeming to have settled over him, but Sharon was wide awake. How was she supposed to sleep now with all that had happened and all that he had just told her?

 _ **TBC**_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you to **disturbinglclarity** who beta-read this chapter for me.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

As the sun began to rise, Will's eyes eased open, as they had every day at this time for over forty years, but something was different about this particular morning. A slight glance to his right revealed the vision of reddish-brown waves casually draped over the soft curve of a bare, freckled shoulder peeking out from beneath his bedcovers, and he was instantly reminded of the blissful night before. It was almost jarring, having slept alone for so long, but he couldn't help but think that waking up to the sight of a naked Sharon Raydor asleep beside him was not an altogether unpleasant surprise.

Will had not been expecting her to come to him in the middle of the night and invite herself into his bed. He had been floored actually, but he certainly hadn't been opposed to the idea, and he didn't waste a moment in showing her with his words and actions just how much she had come to mean to him in the short time that they'd known one another. Honestly, to him it felt like he had always known her, it had only taken a chance meeting for him to be reminded.

Slowly he inched himself toward her and placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before spooning his body behind hers, draping an arm around her middle, and beginning to lazily stroke the smooth skin of her abdomen. He nuzzled himself impossibly closer to her, breathing her in deeply as an unexpected melancholy began to fill his soul. Now that they had experienced one another so intimately, having felt her smooth skin against his and having seen the soft curves of her body up close without any barriers between them, how could he possibly let her leave tonight? A future without her was quickly becoming unimaginable, though the details of how they would make it work were still unclear.

He felt Sharon stir against him. "Good morning," he whispered in her ear. A soft hum, almost a purr from the back of her throat was her only reply as he continued to trace random patterns on her stomach with his fingers. When she shifted slightly, the back of his hand grazed the edge of her breast, and he felt her shiver in his arms.

Slowly she rolled herself onto her back to face him. Any worry that he'd had about scaring her with the things that he'd said last night was completely dispelled from his mind when he saw her soft smile and the look of desire in her eyes that matched his own.

He leaned down to meet her lips in a gentle kiss, and it didn't take long for them to become lost in it as their hands began to wander over newly discovered dips and curves that had not yet been memorized. They ended up making love again, though this time it was slightly more hurried and desperate in its pace, with Sharon's looming departure in the back of both of their minds, but the act was no less tender and loving than it had been the previous evening.

Afterward, Will held her for a while, trying to imprint the memory of her into all five of his senses: the feel of her softness against him, the sight of her flushed skin, the smell of her shampoo and perfume, the taste of her lips, and the sweet sound of her breathing. He'd need to hold fast to it until the next time they were together.

"We should get up soon," Will said, kissing her cheek softly. "Do you want eggs or pancakes?"

"Hmm?" she answered blankly, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Are you all right, Sharon?" he asked, her expression worrying him slightly.

She smiled then. "I'm fine, Will. Pancakes sound wonderful."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"So, I didn't plan anything for today, really, since you have to be at the airport by three. Is there something in particular that you'd like to do?"

Sharon stared out the window as she absentmindedly pushed the pieces of pancake around on her plate, having only taken a few bites. She had been awfully quiet since she'd come into the kitchen from her shower, which she'd taken while he had prepared their breakfast. Will had eaten three pancakes already, and they seemed okay to him, so he was sure that his cooking wasn't the reason for her disinterest in the food.

"Sharon, is something wrong?" he asked.

"Hmm? she replied, when she finally turned to face him. "Oh, no," she quickly added, waving her hand as if dismissing his question as absurd. "Everything is fine. I'm just a little tired is all. We were up late." Her lips curved slightly in an attempt at a smile, but he noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Will put down his fork and reached his hand across the table to take hers. "Sharon, please," he implored. "Talking is the one thing that we've never had an issue with. Don't shut me out now. Tell me what's bothering you."

"Will," she sighed before pausing, seeming to gather her thoughts. "This weekend has been a lot to take in. We're okay, I promise. I just need some time to process everything. We've only been together for five months, but things are moving so fast. Maybe we need to take a step back—"

Will couldn't help it, but he pulled his hand away from her when he heard the words that came out of her mouth. They stung. He started to clean up the things on the table, not knowing what to say in response. She needed _time_?

"We hardly see each other as it is, and you want to 'take a step back?'" He was trying not to sound angry with her, but he was doing a terrible job. He noticed her flinch at his remark, and he felt badly about that, but he couldn't help himself.

"Will, I..."

He didn't let her finish. "I'm going to go and take a shower."

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

When he came back out, Sharon was sitting in the living room reading their latest R. D. Moore novel _The Eye of Jupiter_. Glancing toward the kitchen, he noticed that it was spotless. Slowly, he sunk down beside her on the sofa, but he kept some distance between them.

"You didn't have to do the dishes," he remarked, not meeting her eyes.

"I didn't mind," she answered quietly. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between them, and Will wasn't sure how to break it without saying something that he would later regret.

Suddenly the sound of Sharon reading aloud from her book filled his ears. Closing his eyes and relaxing back onto the cushions, Will allowed the words of the familiar story spoken in the mellifluous voice that he'd developed a need to hear each night quickly wash over him and dispel all other thoughts from his mind.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

After reading for awhile, Will and Sharon took a slow walk around his property, passing by the stream one last time so Sharon could take some pictures, but they didn't speak about anything of consequence. When they came back inside, Sharon packed up her things, and they drove to the airport in silence. It seemed as if neither one of them was going to say anything about their previous argument until Will put his truck in park outside the terminal, and they both began at once:

"Will, I—"

"Listen, Sharon—"

When their eyes met, he smiled, but when he noticed that she had tears in her eyes, his face fell and he reached for her hand.

Sharon swallowed. "I just don't see how this is going to work," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"What are you talking about?" he retorted, taken aback by her words. He didn't understand where all of this was coming from.

"Your life is here, and mine is in LA," she said, gesturing between them. "We see each other maybe once a month. How can we have any kind of future with a relationship like this?"

"Well, I..." he began, but his voice trailed off as he thought of what he should say next. He didn't have an answer for her, but that didn't mean that one didn't exist or that they couldn't come up with one together.

"You see?" she jumped in when he didn't continue. "I don't know why I let it get this far." Pulling her hand from his grasp, she turned to open her door and climb out of his truck.

"Sharon, what are you saying?" he called after her, the desperation in his voice evident as he exited the vehicle and rounded it to meet her on the sidewalk.

"I don't know, Will. I just need some time," she said when he reached her, and he moved to step between her and the truck, pulling her suitcase out of the back and placing it on the curb beside her. "This is all happening so fast."

"But, Sharon—" he said, his voice now pleading, but she waved him off.

"I'll call you in a couple days, but please give me some time, Will," she begged, moving her hand to reach for the handle of her suitcase.

"Okay," he relented, placing his hand atop hers as he felt the prickle of hot tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

Sharon pushed the button to extend the handle of her suitcase and started to turn away from him, but Will refused to remove his hand from hers and forcefully tugged her toward himself, meeting her lips in a desperate kiss. He was relieved when she didn't pull away from him but instead rested her hand on the back of his neck and began gently kneading the muscles there with her fingers. The usually sweet taste of her lips was tainted with the saltiness of tears that he wasn't sure who had shed, but it didn't matter. Either way, it was over far too soon.

"I love you so much, Sharon." The whispered words involuntarily rolled off his tongue as he rested his forehead against hers. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say then, but he needed her to know.

"I will call you. I promise," she declared, before wiping her tears and turning to leave, pulling her suitcase behind her.

As he watched her enter the terminal, he felt as if a piece of his heart was being ripped from his chest, and he was left wondering; if she promised to call him, then why did this moment feel like farewell?

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

 _Don't you dare cry_ , Sharon commanded herself, biting down on her lip until she drew blood and fisting her hands so tightly that her nails pierced the flesh of her palms. She refused to break down and start sobbing next to a total stranger on an airplane, but it was no use—her tears disobeyed and began flowing freely. Her only choice was to turn her head toward the window and pretend that she was sleeping as her view of the beautiful mountains blurred and faded away.

It was after midnight when she finally arrived home. If Rusty suspected anything was wrong, he didn't comment more than to ask if she was all right. At her response of, "I'm fine, just exhausted after a long day of traveling," he let the subject drop and kissed her cheek goodnight, leaving her to rest. _God bless that boy_ , she thought.

Only a few hours had passed since her head had hit her pillow when her cell phone went off. It was Lieutenant Provenza. She hated to say that she was happy that someone had been murdered, but having a complicated case that consumed her every thought was exactly what Sharon needed.

For the next five days, she worked almost nonstop, only dropping by her condo to collapse into a fitful sleep for a few hours before showering, slamming some coffee, and starting the process all over again. By limiting her sleep, she was hoping that she would be less likely to dream of him. She was wrong. As soon as she shut her eyes each night, she was instantly transported back to Will's cabin. Sometimes they were tangled up in his sheets having frantic, desperate sex. He always vanished before they finished, leaving her cold and alone with an aching emptiness. Other times she could hear his voice calling for her, but she was trapped in an all-consuming darkness from which she could not escape. She would try to call out to him, to let him know that she was nearby, but when she opened her mouth, she couldn't produce a sound. She would wake up in a cold sweat, her heart racing and throat sore from attempting to scream, thankful that it was morning and she had her job to distract her once again.

Sharon had told Will that she needed a few days, but after almost a week had passed, she still hadn't called him. What could she say? Nothing had changed; he still lived 1000 miles away. She couldn't leave Rusty, she wasn't ready to retire, and his life was in Montana—his job, his friends, and his beautiful home. If there could be no future for them, then what was the point of pursuing a relationship?

But the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice or feeling the touch of his calloused fingers on her skin, the thought of never again tasting his lips weighed so heavily on her chest that it physically stole her breath.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

As Sharon crawled into bed late Friday evening, she heard the maddening hum of her cell phone vibrating on her nightstand as soon as her body had begun to relax. _Please don't let it be work_ , she pleaded silently, desperate for a few hours of sleep before she had to head back in on what was supposed to be her day off. She picked up her glasses and glanced at the screen with trepidation.

It was Emily.

Her poor daughter had been trying to reach her for the last few days, and Sharon had been ignoring her calls and texts. She knew that it was only a matter of time.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" she answered with a sigh. "It's almost 2am there."

 _"And 'hello' to you, too, Mother,"_ her daughter responded dryly. _"It's so nice of you to take my call."_

Summoning all the patience she could muster, Sharon took a deep breath and let it out silently. "Hello, Emily, how are you, honey?" she asked sweetly.

 _"Don't you dare how-are-you-honey me, not after you've been avoiding my calls for the past four days."_

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. "I'm sorry, we've just had this awfully complicated case, and..." her voice trailed off. She honestly didn't even have the energy to rattle off excuses.

 _"And? Come on, Mom, don't leave me in suspense. I want to hear all about Montana. Didn't you have a good time?"_

"Well..." Sharon began, and slowly she relayed the highlights of her trip . As she reminisced, she could feel her expression softening and the memories wrapping around her almost like she was lying in Will's arms again. Of course she kept a few details of the weekend to herself. After all, her daughter didn't need to know _everything_.

Reliving her three days with Will brought an unexpected smile to Sharon's face, something that had been absent since she'd returned to LA. However, it quickly faded when she thought of the last few conversations they'd had before she'd left.

 _"Mom?"_ Emily voice broke her out of her musings. _"Are you okay?"_

"Yes, why?" she answered, shaking her head in an effort to focus her mind back on the conversation at hand.

" _You got quiet all of a sudden. You were telling me about the hike and the waterfall, and seeing the stars that night and then you just sort of stopped."_ Emily paused, then asked tentatively, _"Did something happen?_ "

"No, no," Sharon answered quickly, attempting to reassure her daughter. "Everything is fine. It's just that..." she hesitated, not quite sure how to put into words what she was feeling. Her daughter was a grown woman, but she still was her daughter. How much should she share with her? "I just don't see how..."

 _"How what?"_ Emily pushed.

"How we can make this work." Sharon let out a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders, as if the act of saying the words aloud had taken some of the weight off of them.

The young woman was silent for a moment, then she began softly, _"You love him, don't you?"_

Sharon was slightly taken aback by her words. Was it that obvious to everyone else? The tears which she'd been able to keep at bay for the past few days began to fall freely. "Yes," she breathed, her voice thick.

 _"Mom?"_

"I lo—" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love him."

 _"Then you'll find a way,"_ she reassured her, while sounding a little choked up herself. _"You will. You deserve love and happiness."_

"But what about Rusty, and—"

 _"Rusty wants you to be happy, too, Mom,"_ Emily cut in, _"and he's not going to be living with you forever. One day he's going to move out and start his own life. Only, you shouldn't have to wait until then to start living yours."_

Sharon was silent, simply taking in all that her daughter had said.

 _"Mom?"_

"You're right," she said, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly proud of the young woman that she had raised. "When did you become so wise?"

 _"I have a very wise mother."_

"I love you so much, honey. Thank you for listening."

 _"I love you, too, Mom, and you're welcome. Good night."_

Sharon hung up and wiped the tears from her face. Finally everything seemed clear and uncomplicated.

She loved him.

The realization made her literally laugh aloud. It really was that simple.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

"Staring at the phone isn't going to make it ring, you know."

Paul's sudden words made Will jump and almost spill his coffee. It was Sunday morning, and after a long week with no word from Sharon, he had planned on drowning his miseries in greasy diner fare when he had unexpectedly run into his friend. Paul had immediately sat down across from Will, unceremoniously inviting himself to join him for breakfast.

Will took a large swig of his black coffee as Paul perused the sticky menu. _He hadn't been staring at his phone, had he?_

Grumbling to himself, he removed it from the table and clipped it back onto his belt. "Mind your own business, _motherfrakker_ ," Will said, muttering the last word under his breath and chuckling to himself before a fresh wave of sadness overtook him when the expression made him think of Sharon. It had been seven days since he'd heard her voice. They hadn't gone that long without speaking since that first time when they'd exchanged numbers almost five months ago. He couldn't imagine never hearing from her again. The thought made his heart physically ache.

"What did you call me?" Paul eyed Will over the menu.

"Never mind. Are you going to order something or not? I'm starving," he barked.

After placing their orders, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air until Paul broke it.

"So what happened?" he asked. "You two seemed great last Saturday. Almost sickening to be perfectly honest. What did you do?"

"What makes you think it was something I did?" Will asked defensively.

"Because you're the one staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring," Paul remarked. "You must have fucked up somehow."

Will merely shrugged his shoulders in response, thinking maybe he had.

 **x**

* * *

 **x**

They were halfway through their plates of omelets, pancakes, and various breakfast meats when Will's phone suddenly began to ring, and the shrill sound startled them both. He had forgotten that he'd turned up the volume, afraid of missing Sharon if she had finally decided to call. Glancing at the display, he noticed that it was a number he didn't recognize. Sighing deeply, he flipped it open, hoping it wasn't someone from work calling him in.

"Sheriff Adams," he answered.

 _"Will? It's Emily Raydor,"_ the shaky voice on the line said.

"Emily? Is everything alright?" he asked, and a million scenarios immediately flashed across his mind.

 _"It's Mom. She..."_ the young woman's voice cracked.

"Emily?" he called, trying not to shout, but she was frightening him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Paul waving his hand frantically and trying to get his attention, but Will was ignoring him and trying desperately to find out what Sharon's daughter was struggling to say. "Emily!" he called a little louder.

He heard shuffling and muffled voices before a much deeper, rumbling one came on the line.

 _"Will, it's Ricky. You should probably head down here. Mom's been shot."_

 ** _TBC_**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thanks again to **disturbingclarity** for being my beta.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

It was supposed to be a quick stop at a witness's house. Normally Sharon wouldn't have gone along, but Amy had the flu and all three of Mike Tao's sons were in town for his wife's birthday. It was a Saturday. None of them should have been working at all, but a nineteen year old girl had disappeared and hadn't been heard from in over a week.

It wasn't a critical missing. The young woman was legally an adult. It took the Major Crimes division awhile to even begin to investigate the case. Lieutenant Provenza had tried to pass it off for a few days while Sharon had been away, but something had gnawed at him. The boyfriend was just a little too controlling, and it made him uneasy. But of course he had an alibi.

They were pretty sure that he knew more than he was telling, though, so Julio and Sharon went to his house to talk to him on more time. Maybe in the comfort of his own home he would let his guard down and finally share what he knew about his girlfriend's disappearance. They were hopeful. They had been grasping at straws all week. They were due a break in the case, but they never imagined it would come in the way that it did.

The young man was friendly, offering Julio and Sharon something to drink before they took their seats in his living room, but Sharon kept hearing an odd noise down the hall. The young man insisted it was his dog trying to get out of the bedroom he was locked in, but something didn't feel right. When she heard the noise a third time and stood to turn toward it, she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being drawn and cocked. Her back was only turned for a second, but in that instant Julio and the suspect had aimed their guns at one another.

"Drop your weapon, or I'll blow your head off!" Julio warned.

"Drop yours, or she dies," the suspect replied in an eerily calm voice as he shifted his arm to point his gun at Sharon.

Sharon was wearing her weapon, but it was too late to draw it now. All she could do was try to keep her cool and hope that Julio could diffuse the situation.

Her breath caught when she saw the suspect twitch the second before he pulled the trigger. Julio must have noticed it two, because he fired two rounds into the man's chest, causing his arm to shift to the left slightly so that his bullet just missed her.

 _That was a close one_ , she thought as she watched the suspect fall to the ground. She turned to Julio then. FID would need to be called, she thought, but before she could open her mouth to speak, the detective rushed toward her with a look of abject horror on his face.

"Julio, I'm fi—" she began.

It wasn't until she turned toward where he had placed his hand against her arm that she saw the blood.

"Oh my God," she breathed, not quite believing what had happened.

Julio kept firm pressure on her wound, and he cradled her head in his other hand as he gently lowered her to the ground.

Time seemed to slow down. Sharon could feel the blood pooling behind her back, warm and sticky against her skin and matting her hair. There was no pain, which was odd, she considered. Then everything suddenly went cold. Her teeth began to chatter and her body shivered uncontrollably.

Julio removed his belt in one swift motion and wrapped it around her arm to stop the bleeding. Once he had it tightly in place, he removed his jacket and covered her with it.

"I'm going to call the ambulance now, Ma'am. You're gonna be okay," he said as he reach for his phone.

"The girl, Julio. Get the girl," Sharon whispered before everything went black.

x

* * *

x

It was every child of a police officer's worst nightmare.

"Your mom was shot," the voice on the line said.

The phone almost fell out of Emily's hand as she felt her knees buckle, and she collapsed onto her sofa. To his credit, Lieutenant Provenza had been as reassuring as he could. They were taking good care of her mother. He didn't have much more information than that; he admitted honestly, because he'd wanted to get Emily on a plane as soon as possible. He'd taken care of the flight, putting it on his credit card, and he'd even sent an NYPD squad car to pick her up at her apartment.

"Pack whatever you can in 15 minutes. Anything you forget we can buy for you later," he instructed calmly. "Let me know when you're on the plane."

During the cross-country flight, she tried to read, but she couldn't focus. She tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. She tried to watch a movie on her laptop but she couldn't concentrate. It was the longest six hours of her life.

When she arrived at LAX at almost midnight, an LAPD squad car was waiting for her, and she was rushed to St. Leo's hospital. The first thing that she noticed was how packed the waiting room was. She quickly spotted the detectives from her mother's division, who were the first to welcome her with smiles and hugs before offering her some pizza that they had ordered. She politely declined, not feeling the least bit hungry.

Sergeants Elliot and Staples and a few others that Sharon had worked with in Internal Affairs were there as well. There were also other officers that she didn't recognize, firefighters, people from the local Sheriff's department, and paramedics. The call of "officer down" over the police scanner had brought them all to this place. They rallied around one of their own who needed them. It was very touching, but Emily just wanted to see her mom.

x

* * *

x

 _When Sharon opened her eyes, she could feel the liquid pooling around her, and it almost reached her face. If she didn't get up soon, surely she would drown in it. Looking around, she noticed that it wasn't her blood, but water. She was lying in a shallow stream. When she sat up, she saw the back of him. He was turned away from her, sitting on the bank and facing the sun, which was beginning to sink beneath dark, ominous clouds. He was so close, but she couldn't reach him._

 _Suddenly it began to rain._

 _"Bill!" she called, then wondered why his name came out that way. It's didn't sound wrong exactly, but his name was Will, wasn't it? She began to doubt herself._

 _The rain caused the water level to rise. When she stood up, it almost reached her waist. It was teeming, falling in heavy sheets. Between the strong current and the rain in her face, it was becoming difficult to walk. When she tried to swim, though, a searing pain tore through her left arm._

 _The water was up to her neck now._

 _"Bill! she shouted. "I'm trying to get to you!" She looked around for something to use as a raft. A large piece of driftwood floated by, and she grabbed a hold of it. When she tried to climb on top of it, however, it felt unsteady, as if she might capsize at any moment._

 _Wave after wave kept buffeting her, trying to knock her down. Briefly she considered giving up and succumbing to the deluge. Death would be a welcome respite from the pain and exhaustion that she felt. She wasn't afraid of it—of death. She was afraid of the emptiness that she would feel inside if she lost him again._

 _Sharon closed her eyes and pictured his face. It calmed her. "Don't be afraid," he said. "I'm here." It felt so wonderful to hear his voice, even if it was only in her thoughts._

 _"I won't leave you again, Bill," she whispered. "I promise."_

 _She vowed to hold on as long as she could._

x

* * *

x

"Will, where are you going? What's happened? Is Sharon all right?" Paul peppered his friend with questions as he threw some cash down on their table and followed him out the door. Maneuvering himself amongst the residents and tourists casually strolling down the sidewalk on this early Sunday morning, he struggled to keep up with Will's hurried pace.

"She was shot," Will called over his shoulder without slowing down as he rounded his truck and opened the door. All he could think about was how he would be able to get to Sharon as quickly as possible; he didn't have time for incessant questions or lengthy explanations.

Paul hopped in the passenger side and buckled his seatbelt. "My God. Is she okay?"

Will started the engine and turned to glower at him. "What are you doing in my truck, Paul? I need to get home and pack."

"It's fine. Go." He motioned to the road. "We'll talk on the way."

x

* * *

x

Lieutenant Tao escorted Emily down the hall to the ICU, where Sharon had been taken after surgery. Emily had expected Lieutenant Provenza to take her, but he seemed busy talking with Detective Sanchez, who was sitting alone in a corner.

"Is he okay?" Emily asked, motioning to the two officers.

Lieutenant Tao glanced in the direction that she had indicated. "Julio?" he asked.

Emily nodded.

"Yeah, he just feels bad that he didn't get to the suspect before he shot your mom. Then he was angry, because he couldn't ride with her to the hospital. He had to wait for FID so he could give his statement and turn in his weapon." The lieutenant paused, seeming to struggle with whether he should continue or not. When he did, his voice was softer. "He killed the guy."

They stopped outside the door to the ICU, and he motioned toward it. "Push on the buzzer and tell them your mom's name. They're only allowing family in at this time. Your brothers are with her."

Emily looked up at him. Although she had been rushing around for the past eight hours trying to get here, now that she was outside the door, she was paralyzed with fear, and she was sure that it showed on her face.

The lieutenant placed a hand on her shoulder. "She's not going to look like your mom, but that's perfectly normal. Her face will probably be pale, and she'll have oxygen in her nose. Her arm will be bandaged from her shoulder all the way down to her elbow." He traced his own arm to illustrate.

"They'll have lots of monitors on her," he continued. "They want to keep track of all her vital signs as a precaution. And if she wakes up tonight, it won't be for very long, and she probably won't make much sense. She's on some pretty potent pain medications right now, okay?" He offered a reassuring smile.

Emily nodded and tentatively pulled the lieutenant in for a hug. "Thank you," she whispered softly. When she pulled away from him, she wiped her tears, took a deep breath and pushed the button on the wall.

"Can I help you?" the voice answered.

"Yes, I'm here to see Sharon Raydor. I'm her daughter."

x

* * *

x

She looked so pale, and her hair hung limp and lifeless. Although Lieutenant Tao had warned her, seeing her mom like that had been initially jarring, but Ricky had quickly risen from his chair and offered her a warm embrace as soon as she entered the room, which helped immensely. Rusty stood as well, but looked hesitant to approach her until she waved him over and incorporated him into their hug.

"I'm going to need both of my brothers to help me through this." She rested her chin in space where the boys' shoulders met and fully took in the sight of their mother. "We're going to need to lean on each other."

The incessant beeping of the monitors was both comforting and grating. Emily and the boys lounged on the various chairs in their mother's room and nodded off for a while, but found sleep difficult with the constant flow of doctors and nurses, the cold draft from the air conditioning, and the uncertainty of their mother's prognosis. Although it had been hours since she'd been out of surgery, Sharon still hadn't woken up for more than a few seconds. The medications kept her mostly sedated.

"Why don't you let me take you back to Mom's to sleep for a few hours?" Ricky offered. "You look like hell, Em."

"Thanks a lot, Ricky." She glared at him. "By the way, your breath reeks. When was the last time you brushed your tee—"

"Guys, please!" Rusty begged in a raised whisper as he brought a finger to his lips and motioned toward their mother, who had begun to stir.

"Bill, Bill..." she mumbled.

"What did she say?" Emily asked, instinctually moving closer to try and make out her words.

"We think she's saying 'Bill,' though we're not sure who that is," Rusty said.

Ricky shrugged. "She said it earlier, before you got here."

"Do you think maybe she means 'Will'?" Emily suggested. "When is he getting here anyway?" she asked her brothers, who exchanged nervous looks, and she sighed exasperatedly. "Please, tell me that you guys called him."

"We didn't have his number," Rusty explained.

"But you got it before!" Emily stopped when she realized that she'd begun to raise her voice. She continued softly, "It's in her phone, remember?"

"She changed her pass code, and we can't figure it out now," Ricky said.

Emily brought a hand to her forehead and stole a glance at her mother, shaking her head. "She changed it?" She pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was almost 3am, meaning it was 4am in Montana, and 6am in New York. No wonder she felt like a zombie. Quickly she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she was looking for. "Okay, I have his number saved from the last time," she said. "I'll call him in a few hours."

x

* * *

x

Paul was silent a moment. He sat on the bed as Will found his black duffel and began to throw some things toward it haphazardly. Then he asked curiously, "She changed her pass code?"

"Yeah, after the last time they hacked into her phone. She told me about it. She changed it to my birthday. 'That'll teach them,' she said…" His voice trailed off as he realized the irony of her words. Quickly he surveyed the items strewn across his bed, making sure he had the essentials.

"Anyway," he continued as he ducked into the bathroom to grab soap, his razor, and some other toiletries, "there are only six directs flights to LA per week, otherwise it takes 4-5 hours to get there with stops. I can get there faster if I fly myself." He paused as he reentered the bedroom. Time was of the essence. How could he get there as fast as possible? "Could you call Boomer and see if she can have my plane ready in a half-hour?" he asked, speaking of the young pilot that he had know since she and Liam were in diapers. Will had taught her everything she knew about flying and even given her the nickname that she now was commonly known by.

"Like hell I will," Paul answered quickly.

Will looked up in surprise at his friend's response and met his eyes for the first time since they had left the diner. "Why not?"

"Will, you can't fly there like this." Paul stood and stepped closer to him, his voice suddenly softer. "Have Boomer do it. She owes you one. Have her fly you down there."

Will sighed. Paul was right. He was in no state to fly. He hadn't slept much the past few days as it was, worrying about the status of his and Sharon's relationship. Now all he could think about was those dreams he'd had about her lying in a hospital bed... But he refused to go there now. He needed to focus.

"All right." He shook his head to clear his mind. "You're in charge at the station. Stay sober and don't screw up," he warned, remembering the last time he'd taken a few days off.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Paul muttered, looking unsure.

Will reached out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You're the only man I can trust. I know you'll do fine, just don't count on this being permanent," he added at the end to lighten the mood.

Paul offered his friend a warm smile before pulling him in for a hug. They had known one another for a long time—the closest thing either of them had to a brother.

"Will, listen. She's going to be fine. I know she is," Paul said reassuringly before they stepped away from one another. "Call me when you land."

x

* * *

x

"Bill, Bill..." she panted, and when Sharon opened her eyes, she saw his face so clearly. Hoping against hope that she wasn't dreaming this time, she reached out to touch him with her one functioning arm. It felt heavy, and the movement took every ounce of concentration that she could muster, but she needed to do it. She had to know if he was real.

She traced the grooves of his face delicately, and his lips stretched into a wide smile. A single tear escaped as he reached up to take the hand resting on his cheek and kissed it in the center of her palm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for, Sharon?" he asked, a look of concern crossing his face.

 _For almost leaving you_ , she thought, but she didn't voice the words. Her brows rose in confusion as she realized her earlier mistake. "For calling you the wrong name. I don't know why I did that..." her voice trailed off. She was being pulled away again. The heavy pain medications were making it difficult to remain lucid.

His expression softened, and he traced her cheek softly. "You can call me whatever you want," he said. "I'm just so happy that you're all right. Rest now. I'll be here when you wake up."

 _ **TBC**_


End file.
